Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

MY PATERNAL grandfather was known as a "wealthy"farmer, meaning that he owned three mules. He had1two sons. One became a pharmacist, and the other-my fatherleftCalanda with four friends to join the army in Cuba, whichat that time still belonged to Spain. When my father arrived inHavana, he had to fill out a form, and thanks to his demandingschoolteacher, his handwriting was so elegant that he was givena desk job. (His friends in the infantry died soon after of malaria.)When his military service was over, my father decided to stay inCuba, where he became chief clerk to a shopkeeper. Apparently, heapplied himself so energetically to his job that he was soon able togo out on his own. He began with a ferreteria, a kind of hardwarestore that sold everything from guns to sponges. A shoeshine manused to drop by every day to see him, and they soon became fastfriends. As my father's business grew, he established a partnershipwith some of his employees, and with the shoeshine man; but justbefore Cuba became independent, my father took the money he'dearned and returned to Spain. (Cuba's independence, by the way,was greeted with resounding indifference in Spain; everyone went tothe bullfights as usual that day, as if nothing special had happened.)